AS 30 MEMBERS OF THE PRESS corps pressed into their tenement attic-turned-playroom, the children went about their business of making potato block prints.
We, the media, had come to their five-story South End shelter following the candidate's star that had miraculously shown in Boston that morning, only to find that none of these children was the baby Jesus. But perhaps that was all right, since none of us were bearing gifts.
Instead we brought that modern palliative, media exposure. Gary Hart would not be arriving at this shelter for homeless families for another half hour, so the press could only stand around the tiny chairs and two foot high table at which the youths sat. Three cameramen plagued the children with the bright lights necessary to bring their plight to the world and newsman wrote interesting little anecdotes into their notepads.
Here are a few of mine:
.One of the children, a young girl who seems to be the most precocious of the lot, counts the number of cameramen. "Three," she says and shakes her head.
.A press aide informs the waiting media representatives that Hart and Mayor Raymond Flynn are on their way. The cameramen begin to check the light, turning their lamps on and flashing them into the eyes of the children carefully cutting away at potatoes. The same little girl rubs her eyes and turns to one of the cameramen. "Turn that off please," she says, emphasizing the magic word. He laughs and leaves the light on.
.Two boys peek their heads through the door to see what all the excitement is about. "Come on in Sean, Randy," the eldest child at the table calls out. "You're missing all the fun." They stay by the door.
Finally Hart arrived. "Hello," the candidate called out to the nation's future. "How you doing?" The press surrounded him as he crouched to see what the children were making. But the kids couldn't make the potato block prints anymore, as they were almost crushed by an alloy of politicians, notepads and cameras.
"These poor kids," Hart said, showing the most feeling he would emote in his entire visit to Boston. Later he would even scold a press aide for yelling at some of the children. They had run up the staircase, thereby fouling the flow of the well-orchestrated media event. "It's their house," Hart sternly said. Not for now.
Still in the playroom, Hart tried to look interested in what the children do when on vacation from school. "What are you printing? Potatoes?"
And: "What do you think about all these cameras?"
Poor Hart is hardly a charmer and these kids didn't respond. So after 30 seconds of trying he and Flynn came to the business of their visit to the shelter.
Flynn described to the candidate in a monotone the purpose of family shelters and how the city operates this particular one. Hart listened attentively, occasionally interrupting with questions and praise for Flynn and Governor Dukakis.
Hart then turned back to the children living in the shelter. After shaking the hand of Randy, who had finally made it into the room, Hart asked, "How old are you, Randy?" Randy holds up a hand. "Five!" Both candidate and toddler giggle.
His business with the children taken care of, Hart made his way downstairs where he held a press conference about the plight of the homeless. Most of the questions, however, centered on his possible presidential bid.
Back in the children's room, the excitement finished, the kids got back to more important matters, their potato printing. Apparently today's entry of television and presidential timber into their lives was not really all that special.
"I think after Christmas they're used to it," explained Susan Tracy, director of Flynn's Shelter Commission. "Most family shelters get a lot of attention then."
Although I found the entire visit to the children ludicrous from the start, it was this last comment which made me realize the pathetic role we force on the disadvantaged in our society. We force them to sell their self-esteem to satisfy our desire for pathos. America runs on pathos. Christmas, elections--these children are required to unwittingly expose themselves to the world in order to get the help they deserve. Some of the parents spoke at the press conference, but at least then the press was forbidden to take their pictures. The children are not so lucky.
It's not as if Hart acted worse than any other candidate; indeed, he even seemed slightly embarrassed by what he was doing. And perhaps this piece is a mea culpa for my own participation in the media event. In a story I wrote for the Crimson last week. I almost completely ignored the shelter, writing about the politics of a Hart and Dukakis presidential bid and about Hart's speech on student aid.
These children deserve assistance not because they give the baritone newscaster a chance to drop into tones of pity but because, to drop into my own self-righteous tone it is their right. They suffer for our sins. And we, by having faith in them, cleanse our collective soul.
